


A Back Road in Iowa

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Beats Himself Up (Internally), Gen, Season/Series 04, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2018-10-10 03:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: When Dean thinks about Ellen, he wonders if the twinge will ever fade.(Spoilers for why he'd do that.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 1/23/10. Comment fic. I think this is the only time I've ever even dabbled in SPN.

When Dean thinks about Ellen, he wonders if the twinge will ever fade. The "what if I'd--," "or maybe if--," and "but then--" phrases echoing aimlessly around in his head as his headlights wobble into the fog of an Iowa back road. He thinks about it more than he'd like to admit. When Sammy asks, he brushes it off, because it's Sammy, and he can't say that shit to him. You keep those worries to yourself until they can be of some use; everyone knows that.

So that's what Dean does. It doesn't stop him from _wondering_ , though, what might have been. When Ellen berated him, if that's what his own mother would have sounded like. When Ellen got pissed, or shouted, or backed him up, if that's what having a real family that told you things, relied on you, and was there for you felt like. Like having Sammy, only older, and stable, and a parent.

Like his dad had never been able to be, and like his mom had never been allowed to be. Dean wonders, no matter how much he tries to drown out his thoughts on old rock and grunge; the old tunes are too familiar, and he can think straight through them. They join his thoughts now, even; they simply echo right alongside.

He flicks on his high beams into the fog, hell if it's only six o'clock. He hasn't seen a car in a good hour, no one traveling in Southwestern Iowa on a Sunday night. The beams make shadows in the fog, the music echoes in his ears, and Dean's thoughts shake around his skull. It doesn't help to keep wondering, but it doesn't hurt, either. He doesn't have anything better to do, while he drives and Sammy gets in a good nap.

Every once and a while, Ellen deserves a good memory. It might have been, maybe. Hell, maybe it even _was_. Dean can spare a back road in Iowa to the mom he never had, and the mom he might've had.


End file.
